The so-called “Gospel of Jesus’s Wife” is back in the news and back in public conversation. The story first broke in a flurry of sensationalism back in September of 2012 when Smithsonian magazine declared that a papyrus fragment had been found which would “send jolts through the world of biblical scholarship.” Well, it didn’t jolt much of anything.

What you believe about your small group will dictate how you approach potential problems when they arise. If you buy a house knowing it will be a fixer-upper, then you approach that faux wood paneling in the family room as an opportunity to upgrade and improve. Whereas if you buy your dream house and find out the basement floods, you’re pretty disappointed and discouraged.

In the same way, people are often disappointed in their small group because they come to it with the wrong expectations. Here are five common myths about small groups, and the corresponding truth that corrects our wrong thinking.

I am convinced that we are a generation of Ham’s and not Shem and Japheth. We glory in exposing sin and shame instead of covering it. Certainly we should “take no part in the unfruitful works of darkness, but instead expose them.” I think we’ve got that part down for the most part. What we lack, however, is a love which covers sin instead of exposing it.

The delivery room is a place of great pain, but also joy as a woman awaits the arrival of new life from her womb. The graveside harbors a family’s great grief, but also, an insuppressible hope and joy as we feel the birth pangs of a world that is passing away and look forward to the world that is to come, a world in which a little girl whose first sight was the eyes of Jesus will receive her little body back and bow before her Maker, a world in which God Himself will wipe away our tears, a new world born out of the pain and suffering of the old.

“Do you have anything to declare?”

I get asked this question every time I return to Canada, and every time I have to stifle a giggle. This is mostly because I’m terribly immature. But seriously, every time I cross the border, I have to fight from making a silly comment that’s sure to send me straight into the loving arms of Canadian or American security personnel.

On our way home from Nashville this past weekend, Emily and I were laughing about the things we could say when asked this question. Here are a few of the answers we thought were pretty funny:

“We had a wonderful time, thanks for asking!”

“I’m a little gassy, sorry.”

“Bankruptcy!”

“Do you know they’ve got beer in their grocery stores?”

“A monkey and a jetpack.”

“I forgot my passport, can I just show it to you next time?”

“I love lamp.”

“The only things we bought were a bunch of Guns… [uncomfortably long pause] and Roses t-shirts.”

“These aren’t my kids.” (See also, “These aren’t my parents.”)

“Not really, do you?”

What about you? What are some ways you’ve always wanted to answer the declaration question at the border?

Last week I shared how 2013 felt like one long giant pregnant pause—that moment when you know something’s going to happen, but it just hasn’t yet. 2013 may have been a bit of a mixed bag for us in that regard, but I’m feeling unusually optimistic about 2014. Here’s why:

2013 is done. While it’s not exactly a full-on reset (the effects of what we did yesterday are still here today), there’s something refreshing about starting the calendar over, don’t you think? Say goodbye to resolution guilt (at least for another few hours until the new round sets in), and enjoy the moment.

Our family is healthy. While Emily’s epilepsy isn’t completely under control—she still has a few seizures here and there, but it’s very limited—her medication is helping. This is a very good thing, indeed. And our kids continue to grow, and surprise us with their cleverness, silliness and thoughtfulness. We’ve got a lovely family, and I’m very thankful for them.

It just “feels” like something big is going to happen. I hate saying stuff like this, but there it is. You know how you get that feeling sometimes—you can’t quite put your finger on it, you have a hard time describing it, but you just know something big is going to happen? That’s pretty much been the last few weeks. I don’t know what it looks like, and I don’t know when, but I can’t shake it. And that’s left me feeling really encouraged. (Although I hope it’s not a sign I’m becoming more naïve as I age…)

Jesus is alive and at work. Call it a cop-out if you must, but it’s true. This is the biggest thing any Christian can or should be excited about. Jesus continues to save his people and grow his kingdom. And we’ve started to see some interesting things in our own family, too. We’ve been praying for family members’ salvation for the better part of a decade now. We’ve been praying for Christians to begin influencing them—and we saw a little glimpse of that at Christmas this year when my dad showed me a gift he’d received: a Reformation Study Bible! We spent a portion of our car ride home praying he’d meet Jesus while reading it.

I don’t know what 2013 was like for you. Maybe it was a fantastic year. Maybe it was a total bummer. Maybe it was somewhere in between. But wherever you find yourself as 2014 begins, I really hope you can begin it with a sense of optimism. It could be a year of big change, or things could stay more-or-less the same. But as long as Jesus sits on the throne, we’ve got a great deal to be thankful for, don’t we?

Yeah, I know 2013 isn’t technically over yet, but with less than a week to go on the clock, it seems fitting to take a look back at the year that was (well, mostly).

If I had to sum up the last year, I’d call it the most pregnant of pauses.

Some very cool things did happen, to be sure. I made a great deal of progress on my systematic theology certificate (I’ve got a couple more books to go then I’ll be done!). We took our first-ever family vacation to Nashville. Only a few days after we returned, I hopped a plane and spent the better part of two weeks flying all around Canada with a very talented young filmmaker, serving as a writer and producer for on a promotional film for my employer. Here’s the result:

On the writing front, I’ve had lots of great opportunities to write some really cool material, some of which hasn’t seen the light of day just yet, but will soon (I hope). Emily and I started working on a few ideas for a children’s book (for the challenge, mostly). This may see the light of day in the next year.

I also finally—finally!—completed a proposal for a new book and sent it off for review with a “big publisher.” We’ll see what comes of it—who knows? There could be some good news to share in the next few months. If not, well… let’s wait and see.

There’s a whole lot more that I could tell you about, but it all comes back to the same thing:

Waiting.

This seems to be the big thing that the Lord is wanting us to learn right now. To wait. To wait on His timing, and on His plans, trusting they’re better than anything we could devise for ourselves.

I’ve been thinking about a number of things since reading The Next Story, but perhaps the biggest issue for me continues to be distraction. Distraction is everywhere. As I’m typing this message, my email is open, I’ve got a number of additional tab open in Safari and I’m sure my iPhone is somewhere reasonably close by.

But do these things help me actually get anything done? Should a relatively simple blog post sometimes take all night to do—merely because I get sidetracked watching a video on YouTube or reading another blog or checking out something my wife wants me to look at? (And as any good husband will tell you, the only one I should answer “yes” to is that last one, just in case you were wondering.)

One of the things that really caught my attention, though was in this passage (note especially the highlighted portion):

All of this distraction is reshaping us in two dangerous ways. First, we are tempted to forsake quality for quantity, believing the lie that virtue comes through speed, productivity, and efficiency. We think that more must be better, and so we drive ourselves to do more, accomplish more, be more. And second, as this happens, we lose our ability to engage in deeper ways of thinking—concentrated, focused thought that requires time and cannot be rushed. Instead of focusing our efforts in a few directions, we give scant attention to many things, skimming instead of studying. We live rushed lives and forget how to move slowly, carefully, and thoughtfully through life. (The Next Story, p. 119, emphasis added)

Because I do read a lot and there are a great number of books that are either sitting in my Kindle app, on my nightstand, dining table or coffee table (or mantle or…). Unfortunately, because there are so here, it sometimes can feel pretty daunting—and at times almost like I don’t have time to read as deeply as I want to with so much that I “have” to get to.

I know it’s just me being ridiculous, but am I the only one that feels this way?

How are you, in this digital age, with so much choice and so many distractions available to you protecting yourself from information overload? Are you taking the time you need to study or are you only skimming?

If I could explain all the mysteries of the Bible, then would you believe? No, you wouldn’t.

If I could show you many signs and wonders, then would you believe? No, you wouldn’t.

If I sacrificed all that I have and all I am in service to the poor and oppressed, then would you believe? No, you wouldn’t.

If I could live my life in such a way that there wouldn’t be even a hint of hypocrisy, then would you believe? No, you wouldn’t.

If I could prove my genuine love and concern for you over and over again, then would you believe?

No, you wouldn’t.

I cannot create a compelling enough argument to make you believe.

I cannot point to any sign that you could not explain away.

I cannot sacrifice enough or be authentic enough to convince you that the gospel is true.

No matter what I say or do, no matter how hard I try, there will always be another excuse to continue in unbelief.

While every day of my life will be spent seeking to live more and more in light of what Christ has done, I know I will stumble and fail. I will say and do things that will cause you to say, “See, this is why I don’t believe!”

I can’t not disappoint. I’m a sinner just like you.

So let’s be honest. I want you to believe the truth of the gospel. I want you to believe that Jesus Christ—God the Son in human form—lived a perfect life in obedience to God the Father, was crucified to pay for my sins and yours, and rose again in victory over sin, death and judgment.

You don’t want to believe this and there is nothing I can do on my own to convince you otherwise.

Fortunately, there is one thing I can do: I can pray for the One who can convince you to do exactly that.

I can pray for a miracle.

The only thing that will make you believe is if God, through the Holy Spirit, gives you a new heart—one that can see the truth and is willing to respond to it.